


60 Minutes

by JustLyra



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF, Motorsport RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For 60 minutes between 5am and 11pm elite athletes must give a location to dope testers. What happens if they come to Jorge's house when he is not alone?</p><p>Inspired by the press conference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	60 Minutes

.

The Demon

| 

 

| 

I really hate that you are in another bed just minutes from my house…  
  
---|---|---  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

I know  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Fancy breakfast? 6am pancakes, 6.30am the hottest sex of your life, 7,30am a nap to recover…. ;)  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

Can’t… Because A is a dick my 60-minute slot is from 7.30am-8.30am  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Why would he even do that????  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

I don’t know  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

You need to take over. Slots should be 5-6am or 10-11pm since they can come during the night anyway!  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

I have had this conversation many times! He says that set patterns are suspicious  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

It doesn’t matter about the pattern as long as the piss is clean  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

That is the strangest sentence anyone has ever sent me….  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Jaja fair point  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

Are you going to fuck off and let me sleep now?  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Yeah. I’ll go wank in the shower  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

You bastard!  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Not my fault me being all wet and sticky turns you on ;)  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

Why would you even do that?!!!  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Sweet dreams ;)  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

_Pic.001_  
  
The Demon

| 

 

| 

Love you ;)  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

Fuck off and wank…  
  
Sugar

| 

 

| 

xx  
  
*

“What the?” Half opening one eye, Jorge frowned in confusion, before groaning, his head thumping back into the pillow, “That key was for _emergencies_ …. Fuck…”

Swiping his tongue over Jorge’s slit, deft fingers toying with his balls, Marc smirked, “This is an emergency…”

“Oh realllllyyyyyy,” Losing his train of thought as his cock was swallowed whole, Marc’s lack of a gag reflex his second most favourite thing about him, Jorge growled, his hips arching from the bed, one hand finding its way into Marc’s hair, the younger man not minding a jot as he hollowed his cheeks, his lips wet with salvia, glistening in the light as he moved up and down Jorge’s length, smug at the sounds he was drawing from the other, “Whfthemergnc…”

Sliding back, releasing Jorge’s cock with an audible pop, licking his lips as he looked up, fixing Jorge with his dark eyes, his pupils wide, hair mussed, “I **need** you to fuck me…”

“That’s…” Shaking his head, Marc’s fingers toying with his balls, Jorge reached down, hauling Marc up the bed by his hair, any protest gone, never really minding that the younger man was brave enough for them both when his confidence faltered, mashing their mouths together, no longer squeamish about the taste on Marc’s tongue being his own, “You are fucking lethal.”

“Yeah…” Marc nodded, a trail of saliva connecting their mouths, Marc’s eyes burning with lust and need, “Fuck me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Trailing his fingers down Marc’s spine, the younger’s skin sensitive, goose bumps forming as he moved lower, both of them groaning as his fingers delved into his crack; Marc because of the tease, Jorge at finding lube, the mental vision of Marc prepping himself, desperate to just arrive and be fucked. Sliding two fingers into Marc, Jorge wrapped his arm around Marc’s back, holding him tightly to his chest, Marc’s hands on the sheets by Jorge’s head, propping himself up as Jorge’s fingers fucked him slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as his head dropped to Jorge’s shoulder at the first brush of his prostate, the low wail making Jorge smirk, “Is this what you came for? Getting your hole filled?”

“Please…” Trying to move, Jorge’s grip too strong, Marc whimpered, his cock rock hard between them, unashamed of the neediness he’d had since they’d first fucked, Jorge’s text telling him to ignore Vale opening a channel of conversation neither of them could ever have imagined would lead here, “Please Jorge, please…”

Pushing a third finger in, Marc loose thanks to three days off for them both, as well as his early morning ministrations, Jorge pressed his mouth to his ear, the hot breath prickly on his skin, voice husky, “Want to ride me?”

“Oh…” Sitting up as Jorge released him, Marc settled on his knees, his chin dropped to his chest, somehow despite everything still shy at _this_ , taking what he needed and wanted, swallowing hard as Jorge tilted up his chin, the look on Jorge’s face making him straighten his back, that level of sheer _want_ giving confidence. Lifting himself up he guided Jorge to his entrance, biting his lip hard as he pushed down, that first moment still a mindfuck, the burn of ‘no’ battling with the surge of ‘yes, balancing himself with hands splayed over Jorge’s chest, Marc whimpered softly, the pain of the stretch giving way as Jorge’s cock brushed that spot, Jorge’s hands on his hips steadying him as he caught his breath, giving himself a moment as he bottomed out, before looking back at Jorge, sweat on his forehead, circling his hips, “ _Fuuuck_ …”

*

“It’s the door… They’ve got the code!” Standing in the kitchen, cereal bowl in hand, Marc yelled up the stairs, “Jorge!”

“I’m in the shower… It’ll be Ricky without his key again. Let him in.”

“Ok,” Padding to the door, clad in Jorge’s joggers, being barefoot and no t-shirt making it obvious he’d been there for a while, Marc laughed as he opened it, “Where is you k… Hello?”

“Hi,” The perfectly manicured woman on the doorstep, most definitely **not** Ricky, smiled, “Is Jorge home?”

“Erm, he’s in the shower…”

“I’m Melissa. Can you get him please? I’m afraid it’s his turn to be door stepped by the dope testers…”

“Ah,” Praying he wouldn’t be recognised, Marc stepped back, silently inviting the woman in, his heart racing, “Jorge! It’s the dope tester!”

“IT’S WHAT?!” Appearing at the top of the stairs, his modesty covered by a towel he was clinging too, Jorge cursed, “I’ll be right down.”

“Not a problem, I’ll wait through here if that’s ok?”

“Yeah,” Marc nodded, relaxing as he seemed to have gotten away with it, “Can I get you anything?”

“No thank you.”

*

Taking the pot of piss from Jorge, Melissa pottered about, going through all of the motions she needed to go through, the two men hovering in the room, both like cats on hot tin rooves, fidgeting constantly. Putting everything into the bags she needed them in, Melissa loaded everything into the box, sealing it up, and smiling, “Right, that’s me done.”

“Great,” Jorge smiled his best smile, somehow dope testing always making him nervous even though he was clean, probably because his former coach Dani had told him they could trace energy drinks and chocolate when he was a kid to stop him sneaking them, “I’ll show you out.”

Nodding politely, Melissa followed him to the door, shaking his hand on the step, before smiling, “If Marc spends a lot of time here do make sure he adds your address to his regular places list.”

“Right,” Jorge’s heart stopped, him having also thought they’d got away with it, nodding, “I will. But he doesn’t. Spend a lot of time here I mean. He’s just… Here today… Not every day.”

Heading back to her car, heels clipping on the ground, Melissa simply smiled, the kind of knowing smile that made Jorge panic as he shut the door.

“Shit.”

“Shit,” Hands on hips, Marc shook his head, “Did we just get fucking outed by the dope test people?”

“Maybe she…”

“You were naked, I’m half naked…”

“Plan B?”

“Plan B.”

*

Marc

| 

 

| 

Hey boss. Funny story. I got caught half naked in Jorge’s house by the dope testing people this morning. No idea if she’ll out us or not, but just in case we’re taking off for a couple of days with no phones. Sorry for leaving you to deal with the shit storm. No denials. If we’re out we’re out. There’s a draft announcement in your email inbox. Thanks!  
  
---|---|---  
  
Emilio

| 

 

| 

Very funny!  
  
Emilio

| 

 

| 

Answer your phone!  
  
Emilio

| 

 

| 

Marc!  
  
Emilio

| 

 

| 

Jesus Christ you are serious?! Answer your fucking phone  
  
Emilio

| 

 

| 

How have you hidden this for so long? Why does Alex find you being caught funny? Is this serious? This could have serious repercussions for your career. You need to think about this!  
  
Marc

| 

 

| 

I love him. It’s that simple. Phone is going off now. I’ll be in touch on Friday. Sorry and thank you  
  
Emilio

| 

 

| 

Ok. It is serious. Right. I’ll sort it. Be careful.  
  
*

Jorge

| 

 

| 

Dope testers came this morning…  
  
---|---|---  
  
Albert

| 

 

| 

Oh right. All well I assume?  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

Sort of…  
  
Albert

| 

 

| 

Sort of? Please tell me you were home!  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

I was home…  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

So was Marc…  
  
Albert

| 

 

| 

Oh no  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

He had some clothes on…  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

I had none…  
  
Albert

| 

 

| 

Fuck  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

She recognised him…  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

There’s an announcement in your emails. If she outs us put it out  
  
Albert

| 

 

| 

ARE YOU SERIOUS?  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

Deadly… We’re shooting off somewhere. No phones, no Wi-Fi, just us. We’ll deal with the world on Friday if we need too.  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

If it comes to it, please liaise with Emilio  
  
Jorge

| 

 

| 

Hector has his number  
  
*

Tooting the horn, Jorge laughed as Marc came out his gate carrying a huge rucksack, opening the back door to chuck it in before darting around to get in the passenger side, “It’s two days…”

“Yeah well, who knows what we’ll encounter on our trip to the wilderness…” Marc cackled with laughter, the trip to a luxury glamping hideaway, somewhere no-one would think to look for two multi-millionaires, clipping in his seatbelt, “Let’s get this road trip on the go…”

Shaking his head, strangely not too panicked about the prospect of the world imploding around them, Jorge shook his head, “You are crazy.”

“Yep,” Flicking the volume of the radio, Marc clapped his hands, singing along to the music as Jorge drove, escaping in their own world for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> The Demon - Marc's nickname is obvious  
> Sugar - Because he melts in the rain. Cruel, but true. [Don't shoot me, you know I love him]


End file.
